


Nightmare Prince

by Nate_kun



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Angst, Drama, Fallen Heroes, Forging Bonds, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:16:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29835192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nate_kun/pseuds/Nate_kun
Summary: Just dropping by.
Relationships: Aqua | Azura & My Unit | Kamui | Corrin
Kudos: 5





	Nightmare Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Kept you waiting, huh? I have much to say regarding the past few months, but I think I'll hold off on that for now. This was originally written for last year's Fallen Heroes banner as a nuanced companion piece to Fallen Corrin's Forging Bonds. I wanted to experiment with mood, ambience, and scenery. For various reasons, however, I left it unpublished despite completing it. Today, I'm repurposing it as the annual release for Azura's birthday. Otherwise, it would have released regardless alongside the now infamous 'big fic' and a slate of other similarly backlogged works. The former has consumed much of my time, and my initial plan was to ignore publishing anything else until it was completed. But, of course, that didn't happen. I'm happy to announce that it's almost finished. It just needs a little more time in the oven. Follow @natekun_ on twitter for updates on that.
> 
> Word count: 2956 words.

Darkness.

It's like the bottom of a pit. A cell in the middle of nowhere. A dimly lit pocket in a vast expanse of nothing. The walls are lined with nature's cadavers as far as the eye can see; long, black, crooked, briar enveloped trees orbiting from every angle, their twisted branches obscuring the sky in such a wickedly morbid manner that only a single ray of light can pierce through the web without being snuffed like a candle.

Everything is foul and stinking. Askr's farthest hinterlands are a hell away from Hel, an almost unspeakable stain on the kingdom's otherwise enchanted countryside. The trees are rotten, the air is toxic, the flora is deadly, the sky is black and starless, and terrors of all shapes and sizes prowl the grounds with contorted cries that seem almost otherworldly. The miasma is perhaps the worst of it all—a fell, odious haze born from tainted blood that preys on weakened hearts and bleeds them from the inside out until all that's left is pale flesh and vengeful bones. It pervades the wood the same way a thick brooding fog would, though none can say whether it feeds into the forest or if the forest feeds into it.

The chamber lies at the very heart of the wood, a small opening between the many nestled trees serving as the only port of entry. The seams between each trunk are razor thin, but the wind whistles through them all the same, tickling fetid bark and infinitesimal mites alike with its dreadful chorus. From the snarls and howls of the wretched unknown to the crunching of leaves and rustling of trees to that incessant dripping sound that can't quite be explained, every last source of discord etched across the wood is recorded and amplified by the chamber's borderline tortuous draft. In the midst of the droning cacophony is none other than a tiny set of scurrying feet cautiously cutting through the monotony, their hurried footfalls the only sound in all the grove that doesn't ring hollow.

"Azura..." a restless voice calls. "You... You really don't have to go to all this trouble. Not... Not for someone like me."

He's a beast, one far beyond repair. The very antithesis to her drifting dreams. The horrid sum of her greatest fears—resentment, pain, agony, despair, and cold bitter loneliness—all converging into a falling star plummeting into perdition at a speed faster than the eye can follow.

"I'm not a child," the girl beside him says tersely, but not rudely. "I'll do as I please."

Every day begins and ends with her at his side, or so he's come to believe. Without a sense of time or a way to tell it beyond her quiet affirmations, the concept of 'days' becomes little more than a meaningless ode stripped of the weight it once possessed. It's comical, fervently so when set against the theory of 'time' itself devolving into one long continuous nightmare with occasional glimpses of reprieve. Said palate cleansing peeks are delivered by Azura, without fear, without question, without even being prompted. Her days begin and end weaving through countless trees, dodging hordes of shadows, and hiding behind rocks when something unfriendly draws too close. Whether coming or going, her goal is the same—to reach her destination without a scratch on her figure save for the dirt beneath her knees.

All for a monster teetering on the brink.

He's both nothing and everything like she imagines. It's almost laughable how _much_ and how _little_ he resembles the prince in her dreams. They wear the same face, have the same voice, and possess the same uncanny kinship with her. Only their outfits and outlooks set them apart. One wears a rich, fanciful dress with a dash of tradition and fantasy. The other wears rags riddled with holes and plates stained from bloodshed. One sees the world dreamily, with a luminous sense of wonder and reverie that a child like her can't help but admire. The other sees it as a cruel joke from the hands of fate with him as the punchline, a broken puppet hanging on by the thinnest thread imaginable. One shows her how to smile, how to laugh, and teaches her that light can exist even in the blackest darkness. The other shows her what it's like to live life teetering on the edge, fruitlessly clinging to distraction after distraction, desperate to think of anything but the thought of losing all control. One sings songs with her by the river, makes up games with her without any rules to speak of, shares dances with her in endless meadows, and weaves wonderfully matching crowns out of the flowers they pick in the aftermath of their duets. The other can barely stand on his feet, can barely breathe without coughing up bile, little more than a stubborn feckless phantom of his former self.

Both carry the same name.

"I'm not joking around," the fallen prince says, his breathing heavy and muscles tense against the tree keeping him upright. "This place isn't safe for children. Never mind whatever else could be here with us, the air isn't even clean. Breathe too much of it, and you could fall ill or... or worse... _augh…_ Please, you can't just keep stopping by every day all by yourself. I... I don't know what I would do if... if you were to get hurt..."

Though his words ring true, they fall upon deaf ears. Rather than keep her distance from the degrading beast, the little songstress scoots closer, clutching onto his armored sleeve.

"I don't care if it's not safe," she says. "I don't want to be lonely and... and I don't want you to be lonely either, so I'm not going to go away. I'm going to keep pestering you every day. Every day until you come back with me."

"Azura..." the beast throws his head back, a wheezy chuckle escaping him. "As blunt and stubborn as ever, even as a child..."

"What do you mean by that?" she's quick to inquire. "Maybe you don't want any lunch after all."

"Now hang on a second," the prince rises in a sudden burst of vigor. "Let's not get hasty!"

The menu isn't anything special, just a couple of hand sandwiches nicked from the castle's mess hall. Milquetoast, really. No different than any other evening. To Corrin, however, it may as well be a feast; the sort of supper a hero would expect to receive for slaying the very sick monstrosity he's slowly turning into. He scarfs down the lion's share of the haul with Azura's hushed approval, crumbs sticking to his face and bits of lettuce slotting between his teeth with each sandwich he tears to shreds. Azura's a shrewd little mouse by comparison, quietly working on her much smaller share, barely halfway into one sandwich by the time he cleans his plate. Though humor seldom tickles her, even she has to spare a giggle at his wide eyes and stuffed cheeks. It's almost silly enough to make her forget the lengths she's gone for him to make such a face.

"Please," the feral prince huffs upon swallowing his last morsel, his messy cheeks flushed and drenched with sweat. "Promise me you won't do anything foolish for my sake, even if you think you're doing the right thing. I know it's probably not too convincing after witnessing, well, _that..._ but I can go a few days without eating, honest. I wouldn't have come here if I couldn't... _agghh..._ Truth is, I came here to protect my friends and family, not hurt them."

"Friends..." Azura pauses, her eyes wandering wistfully into the distance. Just the word alone is enough to make her want to hug her knees and wish she were in bed, plucking petals and telling fortunes—

_Plonk._

_"Eep!"_

"We are, aren't we?" the prince pats her head with a smile she's seen one too many times before. "I can't imagine you would come all this way, _every day and with food might I add_ , braving thick and thin for just anybody. You clearly want to spend time with me... _gaah..._ as... as much as it makes me worry."

"Maybe," Azura fidgets under his palm, unable to look him in the eyes. "I, um... It's just... We were both so... lonely... and you... you reminded me of someone I once knew, so I thought..."

"An old friend?"

"Um," the girl twiddles her thumbs, her voice as soft and sincere as her answer. "Yes."

For some reason or another, she neglects to mention that he's much more than just an old acquaintance, neglects to add that he's none other than the culmination of her unconscious desires for the perfect companion. Someone kind and caring, who listens to her woes with an attentive ear, a wellspring of unconditional support, and a brief respite to escape from it all. Someone loyal, devoted, earnest and princely, like the knights her mother used to regale her about under the veil of night. Someone that would be considered a good friend to most, but the stuff of dreams to someone like her.

"Everyone's always picking on me," she confesses quietly. "Not here, but back home. They push me, trip me, call me names, make fun of my singing... One time they even locked me in my room and told me to cry myself to sleep like I always do... It's not fair. I don't want to be lonely. That's why I keep coming here, t-to see you... but when I hear words like 'friends' and... and I think about all those things they did... all the things they said... all those times that they..."

She chokes back a sob, her grip around her knees tightening.

"Ah..." Corrin draws his hand back, his voice dropping to a concerned whisper. "Is something the matter? Why are you..."

His heart's already in shambles and still, whatever shriveled fragments of it that are left in the wake of his sickness break all over again as the little songstress tilts her head to look at him.

"I-if we're really f-f-friends," her blubbering hits him like an axe to the head and a spear to the chest. "T-then... then please, p-p-please don't tell me to stay away... when... when I don't want to be anywhere else... Please don't turn me away like everyone else!"

Azura's walls give way like a dam. Hot tears trail down her cheeks, staining her clothes with a childhood's worth of pent up anguish. Her tiny chest heaves with endless sputtering hiccups, breathless puffs of air mixing with jumbled pleas and desperate weeping. "C-Corrin," she rubs her nose until it's red and running with one hand and digs feverishly into her eyes with the other. "I-I don't want to go away, C-Corrin... a-and I don't want _you_ to go away either! _Uaaahhh!_ "

"Azura!" the prince calls to her with whatever will he can muster, the foundation of his very soul practically splintering from having to witness her broken heart. His own eyes begin to water as he reaches out for her once more. "I-I didn't mean it like that! Please forgive me! Please don't cry! I _—_ " he pleads to her, but his racing mind dithers partway and abandons him at the starting line. He hesitates, frozen, extended hand trembling in place, aching to continue but unable to get the words out. The nettlesome haze, ever compelling, ever festering, consumes him whole, and in that moment he realizes that he's the last person in the world who should be helping anybody.

"I... I..."

His own dam collapses, not with a bang but with a twang, like a thread severing in two. The turnover is quick and painless, like a switch being flipped, and what spills from the fallen walls isn't a surge of tears but a maelstrom of deep-seated evil.

"Azura _._ "

If there's any reason for her to stop crying, it's the way the syllables that make up her name spill wretchedly from his mouth with none of the care or concern he carried before. What trickles from Corrin's lips is a chilling reminder of what makes the monster inside him a force to be reckoned with. The rate at which his mind succumbs, the speed at which his heart leaves him, the absolute bloodcurdling ease at which the last of his willpower gives in—is all evocative of the gap in strength and stability between the humble prince and the dragon within. That it takes less than a second for him to fold, less than a second for every thought in his head to fizzle out and be supplanted with hollow contempt and insatiable madness, is nothing short of soul stirring.

"Mm?" the little songstress peeps, her tears clearing just enough to give her an unfiltered glimpse of the creature standing before her.

"Corrin?"

The cloak of smoke engulfing the beast only billows at the sound of his name, raving like a tempest as he towers over her, his eyes glowing and bloodshot. "Azura," he calls out to her again but doesn't bother waiting for an answer. With a murderous roar that racks the trees around them, he lunges at her in a single swift motion, the only thing protecting her from a quick and painless end being the sharp internal shock that runs him through at the last possible moment.

" _RRRRGGGHHAAAAGGHH!"_

The beast recoils with a piercing shriek. Azura manages to seize his hand before he can draw it back, only to watch in horror as it begins to shift into a grotesque black claw; the warmth and softness of his delicate flesh _—_ the very fingers that were soothing her moments ago _—_ growing cold, calloused, and horrifically inhuman. "Y-your hand! W-what's happening to y—?!"

"I'm fine!" Corrin snaps, a small part of his consciousness returning amidst the height of the storm, his tail thrashing against the ground as he fights tooth and nail to stay in control. His eyes are screwed shut but he's almost certain he's made her shrink with that reaction. "I just... I just need to concentrate!"

"You're burning up!"

"I know," he gasps, staggering back onto a tree. "I know... Just... just let me...!"

Despite his words, the only thing that lets up is the rest of his body as it gradually falls out of sync. His feet shift with as little resistance as the arm that came before them, while his other hand turns as it clutches onto his face. Freakish horns jut painfully out of his head, twisted antlers adorning a twisted mutant.

"Th... This is nothing," the beast lies through knife-like teeth. "I've... I've changed countless times before... hundreds... _aghh..._ so many times... I just... I just need to contain it myself... this time... w-without a dragonstone... _gaahh..._ without giving in..."

"C-Corrin," Azura weeps, still clutching onto his claw. "You're hurting..."

"I'm not—"

"Every day is like this for you, isn't it? Lonely, hurting, trying to hold everything back..."

"Please don't cry again. Please..."

"Only if you tell me the truth. Only if you stop trying to fight it by yourself."

" _A_ _ghhh_ _..._ "

"Please," the little songstress pleads, pressing his claw to her cheek. "Please don't turn me away too."

She clutches tighter, her unfurling heart beginning to sing along with the beat of his faint pulse. The song itself is nothing grand, just a simple lullaby her mother used to enchant her with. To say she even sings it is in and of itself charitable. It's much closer to humming; a low, soothing melody gently surfing along the waves.

" _Hmmm... hm hm… hm hm..._ "

" _Raaaaghh...!_ "

She's uncertain what exactly prompts it, the long forgotten lullaby or the way he hisses and writhes as it tickles his ears. Nevertheless, the reaction leaves her with the hope and drive to hum to him until it hurts. The dragon seethes through uneven fangs as the small songstress ensnares him, buries herself in his chest, and sings directly to his tainted heart. He struggles, flails, and even cries in his attempts to break free, but not once does he truly fight back. With his unbridled rage compromised by the one part of his consciousness still wrestling for control, all he can do is squirm maddeningly as the tune unwinds.

" _Aaaagghhhh!_ "

" _Hm hm hm hm… hmm hmm, hmm hmm..."_

The foul haze consuming Corrin begins to thin, the malevolent force offset by a symphony of gushing waves seemingly conjured by Azura's performance. Dancing along the songstress's beat, the rhythmic waters weaken the miasma to the point of almost petering. It's an ethereal sight to behold, and although the song fails to purge the fell haze completely, the damage done is enough to bring the beast to his knees, exorcised and returning the little songstress' embrace.

"Azura..." he puffs, every waking ounce of him remorseful. "T... Thank you, thank you... for everything. I... I'm so sorry. I don't even know where to begin. I don't even know how to start, what to say, what to do, if you'll even bother humoring any of it. I wanted so badly to believe that I knew my own strength, that I could endure all of this on my own, but I have no right to claim that now. I hurt you. Thank gods it wasn't physically but I still had the nerve to even consider pushing you away when you were the only one left by my side. Please forgive me, please. I—"

"It's okay," Azura squeezes back, sniffling. "As long as I get to stay with... no. As long as we get to be lonely together, then that's all that matters."

It's a faint change, but the lone ray of light in the chamber shines just a little bit brighter.


End file.
